TADAAAAA (shot) another chapter. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it, even though it is short and fillery. It seems like almost all of this is fillery, doesnt it? XD
warning: OOC, gore, slightly suggestive themes.
Inspiration: pachi's idea on the first scene, and "quiet" by lights.
Disclaimer: not mine, never will be~
ONWARD 8D (plots ending happily)
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Swallowing thickly, the redhead tried to remember the last time he had done something so reckless. He was standing in the bathroom -on a stool, because while he was almost Yamato's age, he was too short to really see properly into the mirror- with a knife in hand.
It had been a few days since the fight with Jealous, and his cheek had swollen almost two sizes. So here he was, holding a tiny knife and hoping no one returned home before he finished. He could only imagine Yamato's reaction...
Taking a deep breath, and hoping his pain killers would work, he brought the knife to his cheek. Uru was careful to not slice into the golden discs on his cheeks, and whimpered softly. He'd only done this on one other occasion, and he was starting to wish that he'd chosen an external machine instead.
The entire procedure went surprisingly well, and only took maybe fifteen minutes. Granted, he had stopped a few times when he couldn't stand the pain any longer, Uru thought he had done fairly well. He'd only screamed once, and that was when the knife came too close to the disc.
Uru was just sealing up the gaping cut when he heard the front door creak open. Almost dropping the thread in his fingers, the redhead prayed silently that whoever it was wouldn't venture into the bathroom.
Whoever was listening decided to spurn him. Probably karma...
A soft knock sounded against the door, echoing against the tiles. "Uru? That you?"
Shit... "Y-Yeah!" he called back, voice strained and cracked with the pain of moving his jaw.
"You okay?" Yamato asked, concern clouding his voice. "Is something wrong?"
"N-No! No, nothing!" Uru replied, praying the brunette would just listen and go away.
A stretch of silence passed by, the redhead listening for the other's footsteps to leave the hall. And after a moment, they did. Heaving a sigh of relief, the redhead let his shoulders slump, and began to tie the stitches again in his jaw. Staring fixatedly into the mirror, Uru tried to ignore the thick, and long rivulets of murky, pale green that ran down his chin. His own blood was a sight that tended to frighten him.
He had JUST finished tying up the wound, when the door cracked open a little. Jumping, the redhead's eyes went wide and he turned to see Yamato. The brunette had his hand over his eyes, and looked uncomfortable.
"H-Hey Uru, mnot looking. I was just worried, you've been in here for a while, and-"
"Fine!" Uru protested, waving his hands and praying the taller male wouldn't open his eyes. "Uru is fine!"
Letting his hand drop a little, Yamato peaked over the edge of his fingers. "You sur- WHAT THE HELL!"
The redhead's antenna sank against his head as he flinched, cringing. "N-Not what it looks like-"
"I-Is that blood?"
"...M-Maybe?"
Yamato reached out to steady himself against the doorjamb. "W-Why is there b-blood-!" he cried, eyes wide and horrified. "Did something happen?"
"N-No! Nothing-" Uru protested firmly, wincing.
The brunette's eyes traveled from the blood soaked sink, and the knife, to Uru's stitched up cheek. He didn't listen to a word of the broken Japanese that Uru spoke, making his own assumptions quickly. Uru had never seen a man's face go so pale, then green so quickly in his entire life.
Yamato stumbled inside, and grabbed a hold of the redhead's face with his palms. Uru shrieked, pain searing through his entire cheek, as Yamato pawed at the wound, trying to see what was wrong, what happened, and how he could fix it. Raising a bandaged hand, the redhead pawed desperately at the brunette's wrist, whimpering.
"H-How did you get this hole in your cheek? Are those s-stitches? What did you-"
Finally, the redhead shoved the older male back, and shrieked. "AWAY!"
The brunette stumbled, eyes wide and face comical in how baffled he appeared. But after a moment, he gathered himself. "B-But-!"
"OUT! NOW!"
If the screaming, bleeding alien hadn't frightened him, the objects he was throwing at him most certainly did. After the soap dish shattered against the wall next to his head, Yamato darted from the room. Heaving deep, pained breaths, the redhead shook his head, suddenly feeling miserable with himself. He groaned, and refrained from rubbing his cheeks.
000
An hour later saw the duo in Yamato's bedroom, both seated on the bed, not facing the other. Uru's face was a soft shade of red, as the nervous brunette gently rubbed the Spirit Sphere against his cheek. Yamato himself was seated rather close to the redhead's side, and tried not to think of how close they were. There was nothing really there between them, he was sure, but it felt...awkward to be so close to someone else.
And, as per usual, the redhead would not speak to him. Yamato wasn't sure if it was because of his panic attack, or if he'd honestly hurt Uru that badly. He prayed it wasn't something bad...
Uru himself was finding everything about Yamato suddenly quite amiable, though it made no sense to him, really. The warmth of his skin against his own, the touch of his big, awkward hands. Even the sound of his nervous voice, it all seemed...far too nice for Uru's liking. On some level, he had a feeling he knew exactly why this was all occurring, but he stomped it down. Hormones had no place in this relationship, if you could call it that.
But still, it made the entire exchange as uncomfortable as possible. Though, Uru wouldn't lie. The distractions were quite welcome, considering that the healing magic of the Sphere hurt. The process of new cells being forced to form and stitch the wound slowly was more painful than he could describe. It wasn't a blinding pain, but a nagging, itching pain, one he detested.
"There we go..." he heard the brunette murmur, and the bed shift as Yamato stood up.
Uru reached up, and rubbed softly at his skin, and let his eyes sink closed in bliss. His tail swayed softly, the feathers making quiet sounds as they brushed against the bedsheets. Yamato sighed mutely, taking in the sight happily. He didn't see the redhead this peaceful very often.
All seemed right with the world for the moment.
000
Across town, however, all was not right. Sayama wasn't sure what happened to her home, but she knew for sure it was horrible on many levels. Currently, she slept in her parent's room on the floor, as the couple struggled to come up with an answer to how the damage to the house had come to pass.
Sayama's father strongly believed a group of delinquents had tossed a bomb into her open bedroom window. It would make sense, but why would they have targeted her bedroom? Why not the much easier target of the living room, or any part of the first floor?
Her mother didn't disagree, at least not openly. But she did say it felt like there had been a larger, more darker motive behind all of this. She wasn't sure why, but she noticed all of the smaller damage to the walls, the scuffed railing on the stairs, and the torn rug that appeared to have been cut with claws. She noticed that the living room floor had the same deep grooves in its wooden surface, and that faded green and beige stains covered the floor near the doorjamb. And whats more, she could see that the door had been sliced at with something hot, if the singe marks said anything.
Sayama was more interested by the thick, sticky webs in her closet, the fridge, and the front door. She had no idea how they had gotten there, and felt as if a residue from them clung to herself. It was an eery, unsettling feeling that kept her from coming near any of the webs in the house.
Once, when sleep evaded her, she thought wildly that a spider had broken in, and tried to kill her. That one had sucked her into her closet, and was seconds from ripping out her throat. She fell asleep before she could continue the thought, but her dreams even followed that amazingly ridiculous idea.
In the dream, Sayama had padded through the sunny hallways of her home. She had been unaware of most things, besides that she was greatly uneasy with the feeling of being watched.
Eyes, eyes, they're all around me, she thought wildly, her pace gaining speed.
Her bedroom door was just insight, teasing her with the feeling of safety out of reach, and Sayama almost ran to keep up with the never ending hallway. When she DID grasp the cold handle in her sweaty palms, her heart had almost leaped from her throat, where it was nestled quite comfortably.
However, her bedroom offered little solace. Even in here, Sayama felt those malicious, terrifying eyes all around and over her. She couldn't escape them, she couldn't escape anything- and then she was in her closet, telling herself to scream, to beg for mercy, to RUN. Cold, smooth hands wrapped around her, and a sticky feeling kept her quivering ankles in place. A gleaming something -a knife, a claw, fangs?- was pressing against her belly, and hands were around her throat.
A wild, exceedingly proud and distinctly evil smile was on her attacker's face. Sayama knew, even in her dream, that this terrible creature was going to kill her, and she could do nothing to stop it.
And then a doorbell rang.
Sayama snapped awake, a cold sweat chilling her body. Her heart hammered a million miles an hour, and her belly began to ache horribly. She whimpered quietly, eyes wide and tear filled, and suddenly she didn't want to be in this house. Deep inside, or maybe just beneath her skin, Sayama knew this was a part of a memory.
That night, she lay awake, listening to the house creak, and waited for the sound of footsteps. She heard none, and felt sickness wash over her that morning. Sayama had no idea why, but the footsteps she sometimes heard on the roof comforted her. The house always had a more serene feeling to it when they were around.
So, if she had to take a side on the debate of what happened to the house, she would probably side with her mother. Something definitely was inside, and had more on it's mind than just simple defacing of private property. And it scared her to death, because whatever had been in her room had wanted to deface HER. And nearly accomplished this as well...
Needless to say, all was not comfortable nor right with her world right now.
000
Yamato jumped a little when a bottle of shampoo was shoved under his nose. Blinking, he looked away from his homework, and over at the expression of urgency on Uru's face. He was pouting, as if to coax him into agreeing with whatever he was asking for.
Raising an eyebrow, the brunette frowned softly. "Huh? What is it?" is little Jimmy stuck in a well? He thought inwardly.
Tail sweeping the floor, and antenna forward, the redhead shook the bottle of shampoo insistently. "Shower."
"Shower?"
"Please!"
Yamato blinked oddly, and pieced the request together quickly. "You want a shower? Cant you do it yourself?"
Good point, the more cynical, and mature side of him thought. However, Uru felt the sickening urge to have the brunette's attention, and shoved that voice down easily. He sniffled, and stuck his lower lip out further. Yamato felt his eye twitch.
"You aren't five, that doesn't really work for you..." lies, it worked wonders! Yamato thought. It was more the idea that this was a seasoned killer acting cute that deterred him from falling for it.
Narrowing his eyes, the redhead let the pout fall from his face. He shook the bottle again, thick fingers refraining from squeezing too tightly. His nerves were so out of whack..."Please!" he said again.
"Do it yourself, I'm busy." Yamato replied, trying to refocus on his take home math test.
That was ten minutes ago. Now, Yamato was kneeling behind the alien, and grumbling to himself. He scrubbed at the boy's hair, listening to him hum happily and kick his legs. Every other note, the boy's thick tail would bump into him as it swayed, held high away from the water. For whatever reason, Uru despised his feathers getting even slightly damp.
Sighing, the brunette transferred his hands to the boy's back, scrubbing carefully. The wounds in his shoulders were healing nicely, but he didn't want to touch them. He vaguely remembered the mostly sealed up holes in the redhead's palms, and almost wanted to ask how they were.
Absently, he reached around to run the soapy cloth he was using over Uru's chest. He managed to drag it down the middle of his chest once, before a hand clamped around his wrist. Yamato blinked, listening to the sharp, uneven breathing, and the way the tinier shoulders shuddered.
"D-Did I hurt you?" he asked, nervous.
Flicking his tongue across his dry lips, the redhead shook his head gently. He shoved the taller male's hand away from his body, and wrapped his arms around his front. If Yamato could see his face, it would be as red as a tomato. Uru thanked the Maiden for the fact that Yamato COULDNT see his face, or the thick liquid that was sticking to his arms.
Making a face, the brunette felt almost insulted. What did he do to deserve being shoved away? Why did Uru even react that way, if he wasn't hurt? This boy made no sense! He quickly corrected himself. Uru was hardly a boy, he thought. If Yamato was being honest with himself, while the redhead looked and acted like he was seven, he was definitely not as young as Yamato tricked himself into believing.
Shrugging off the reaction, albeit grudgingly, Yamato reached for the shower head, pulling it loose with a sharp tug. Uru was quiet, tail stiff and unmoving, as the teenager proceeded to rinse his hair and whatever skin had been washed. When he was done, he set the shower head and the soapy cloth where Uru could easily reach them.
"I'll just leave em here for you." he said.
Uru's antenna sprung forward, and he blinked owlishly at the brunette. "E-Eh?"
Yamato shrugged. "I figured you'd want to be alone or something. You seem unhappy."
The redhead resisted the urge to slap himself in the face. Of all the things his dim witted friend could assume, he assumed the exact opposite of the situation. He sighed, and shook his head. "No. Don't go."
Frowning, but staying seated, Yamato nodded. "You sure?"
"Good."
"What...?"
"P-Positive!"
"..."
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I leave it at thaaaat. So much filler/partially useful filler, it kills Dl though, it was kinda fun. The first scene wasnt as amusing as it could be, but eh. As for the last bit, I was thinking of omi a lil. He messes up sayings, and I figured uru would to, to some degree. Uru still doesnt know almost any japanese, thus his short, kinda strange responses. (it feels like he's a kid...)
omake~!
yamato: (opens door) w (thats it, dont make a soun-)
uru: O_O (sees reflection in mirror)
yamato: (now undress...undress!)
uru: WTF ARE YOU DOING D8
yamato: (shit! i've been seen!) u-uh, just checking up on you!
yamato: you sur- IS THAT BLOOD?
uru: well-
yamato: OMFG WTF HAPPENED!
uru: SHUT UP! G-GET OUT!
yamato: WTF-
(all is quiet outside. birds chirp and clean themselves on the trees~ sun is shining, clouds roll by- BODY IS THROWN OUT WINDOW)
yamato: (screams like a girl!)
(20 minutes later)
yamato: WTF WAS THAT FOR? (half dead)
uru: you were yelling at uru...
uru: (rubs cheeks) =w= nngh~ (moan)
yamato: =w= (its so adorable and innocent)
sayama: eyes, eyes, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE! (runs) ;A;
camera men: ...A the fuck?
jealous: (shrugs) idk A
yamato: (goes to wash chest-)
(music blares) AND AI JIZZED IN MAH PANTS! C8
yamato: o_o w-wha?
uru: i-idk D8 (w-where did that come from!)
AND THATS IT FOR THAT. (went overboard on the omake...)